


Mischeif

by iArgent



Series: Glow and Shine [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Confusion, Cuddling, F/M, Gen, M/M, Obscure elven courtship, Sharing a Bed, ruining one of dorians robes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iArgent/pseuds/iArgent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris isn't who you turn to for a restful nights sleep, and his sense of humor leaves much to be desired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mischeif

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for swinging by everyone. Have some fluff!

Dorian learned quickly that Fenris was terrible at sharing a bed. They’d both been tired after their…activities, and the brief emotional discussion had well and thoroughly exhausted the elf. With his permission Dorian had lain, body pressing into the elfs back and an arm over his hip, the warmth and general relaxed nature of it had knocked them both out with reasonable quickness, for a bit.

  
Dorian woke to the twitching. All of Fenris’s muscles jumping into looseness after the day, even after the massage, his limbs twitching, the gentle shuffle of movement as he slept. Dorian hadn’t minded being woken up. He’d never thought ‘cute’ would apply to anything other than the elfs puppy eyes and habitual grumpyness. Beautiful, intimidating, yes, both, but adorable was off the mark until now. Eventually he’d drifted off again, waking when a sharp elbow caught his gut.  
He sucked in a ragged breath and choked softly before looking down to the still adorably sleeping elf and deciding maybe he’d just pull away so he wouldn’t be injured further, and so Fenris could sleep peacefully.

  
“Hm?”

  
Damn it.

 

“I’m just shifting.” He mumbled in explanation “Back to sleep with you.”

  
“Very well.” Dorian had to smile at the answer, Fenris had actually been bleary. He took it as an accomplishment, the warrior had been known to wake and fight in a fully functional manner in seconds. But in bed with Dorian he was _bleary_.

  
“Sweet Andraste I’m a wreck.” He mumbled a moment later. “I’m one of Varrics poorly written love interests. _Bleary_. Pah!”

  
“I’m sleeping. And you Wreck?” Came the tired reply. Dorian, who’d rolled onto his back turned his head to stare at the soft figure under the thick blanket. He looked to be asleep. Head bowed as if he was snuggling into the pillow like a cat (he was) shoulders lax, back relaxed, the gentle rise of his hip shifting just a bit to indicate he was shifting. Dorian knew his hands were curled up into half fists by his face. But he sounded quite alert, if bleary.

  
“Sorry, I’ll shut up.” He promised fondly.

 

“Good.” And with that, Fenris shifted lightly again and resumed the deep even breaths of one in slumber. Dorian smiled and drifted off once more.

  
He woke to the sharp pain of a slap. He startled awake and looked to the side, the hand already retracting as startled green eyes looked back. Fenris had rolled to his back and apparently threw his arm out.

  
“I…That was unintentional.” The elf ground out, looking wary.

  
“Ow.”

  
“I imagine.”

  
“…It’s nothing serious. Pains already fading. Go back to sleep.” Dorian whispered. Fenris looked guilty. It wasn’t a great look, mainly because it furthered the adorable image. And Fenris would hate to think someone found him cute.

  
“Oh fine then.” He mumbled, rolling to face the elf and pulling him close, draping his arm over Fenris’s middle once more.  
The elf sighed and slid, seemingly effortlessly, back to sleep.

  
Dorian fell asleep once more, and woke to the sky being the same shade, Fenris still curled into his chest , and mumbling.  
Fenris was mumbling. Not words, just soft, disjointed sounds pouring from his lips as if he were having a long conversation. Dorian was tired enough to be slightly irritated, but besotted enough to simply smile and let the voice lull him to sleep for hopefully the last time. He felt like he hadn’t slept in days what with the constant up and down nature of tonight’s rest.

 

 

  
________________________________________________

 

 

  
He woke to a low, grating, ripping noise.

 

He closed his eyes tighter for a moment, noticing there was definitely sun in the room. Dawn sun, too early yet.

  
The ripping noise stopped him from going back to sleep. Well that, and the inexplicable cold space where Fenris was supposed to be.

  
He rolled over and sat up, blankets and sheets falling to his hips as he brought one hand to his mouth to cover the yawn. Upon opening his eyes he found Fenris.

  
The elf was standing, calmly, as if he wasn’t tearing a strip from Dorians robes.

  
“What are you doing!?” He squawked in indignation “Those are a set of my best robes! “

  
Fenris looked up from his task, which seemed to be tearing a perfectly even strip from the hem of Dorians favorite white robes, made eye contact, and tore two more inches in.

  
“Are you angry? What happened?” Dorian moved from indignant to bewildered. He couldn’t even bring himself to be bothered by the mutilation of the robes in this moment, but more of why were they being mutilated?

  
Fenris tore down sharply, holding the perfectly rectangular (Dorian had to give him credit for the long ribbon like strip of fabric he’d torn with his bare hands. Most tailors couldn’t get a shape so symmetrical.) strand of fabric to the light, visibly looking for flaws before turning and walking back to the bed (Dorian noted he hadn’t bothered with clothes so unless naked murder was on the table Fenris obviously wasn’t too angry) and held his fist out to the mage.

  
“I..I don’t..Is this a challenge? You want to fight me?” Anything made more sense than whatever the bloody void was happening.

  
Fenris held out the strip of fabric with the other hand, as if bothered that Dorian hadn’t gotten the hint and taken it himself. “I need you to tie it. It’s hard with only one hand.” He loosened the fist into a more benign loose fingered offer.

  
“Tie..Tie you?”

  
“Venhedis, mage. Tie the fabric around my wrist.”

  
Dorian blinked owlishly, but looped the soft, supple fabric five times, covering half of Fenris’s forearm, before carefully tucking it into the area over the soft part of Fenris’s wrist, like a bandage. He stared for a moment, if it wasn’t such fine fabric, he’d take it for a bandage, but as it was it was obviously decoration. “Do I get to know what’s happening now?”

  
“A token.” Fenris ground out.

  
Dorian was absolutely no closer to figuring out what was happening. “Okay. Of what, and why?”

  
“You. Because I felt like it. Are we to continue with the inane questions? Or might we sleep?”

  
Dorian just blinked and laid back down, lifting an arm for Fenris to curl against him once more. His dreams were far less confusing than whatever had just happened outside the fade.

______________________________

 

 

 

Fenris had taken to wearing soft leggings, and an overlarge tunic to avoid aggravating his markings, once the Inquisitor suggested he not wear armor everywhere ( for the general sanity of the servants and nobles). The cream colored tunic exposed more of both shoulders, and a bit more chest through the tie than most people would have expected Fenris would be okay with. But it was fine fabric, even if it hung about him, loose and not in the least fitted, obviously designed for a human. Dorian would have loved to say it was his, but it would probably drape about him like it did Fenris. The Inquisitor had found it for him, as well as the breeches on a trip to Val Royeaux, she’d said it was big, but Fenris had asked for something loose. He happily wore them.

  
Dorians favorite part of the damn tent the elf wore were the sleeves. They hung long and bell like, the elves fingertips just visible when he stood relaxed. Considering he wore armor whenever he planned to be outside, this was clearly a ‘sit with Dorian or Leliana, or Cullen, or Varric and read or play chess or Wicked Grace’ day. Dorian noticed though, that Fenris had a habit of brushing his soft white hair from his face with the wrapped arm. It was a familiar sight, all but the bit of his once intact robe. After being accosted by the Inquisitor he’d turned his back on the sight. Midway through his conversation with Lavellan he saw her eyes narrow as she leaned forward and around him, staring intently.  
“What is it?” He asked, turning around, he only saw Fenris and Varric, chatting amiably over a game of Wicked Grace.

  
“There’s something on his arm. White, like a bandage, do you know if he’s hurt?” she hissed, her green eyes shining in concern.

  
Before he could answer she was flitting over to the table, passed a startled Cullen who had probably expected his lover to _look_ at him as she passed and ignored his greeting. Confused he looked at Dorian for some form of answer. Dorian shrugged, and for a moment they simply stared at each other before deciding silently to follow the she elf in her quest.

  
When he reached the table she turned back “Dorian.” She said hesitantly “Isn’t that a piece of one of your robes?”

  
Cullen faced him, an eyebrow rising in amusement, and perhaps some confusion.

  
Dorian blinked and gestured at her “And isn’t that part of the Commanders lovely fur coat?” he shot back, gesturing at the delicate knot and tassel of fur tied carefully into a silver hoop through a pointed ear. When did she pierce her ear? Why did she tie fur from Cullens clothing into it? Were elves just weird like that?

  
“Is it?”

  
He’d forgotten Cullen was here, he was a terrible friend.

  
She furrowed her brow, Varric looking on in amusement, trying to hide a smile. Fenris also looked endlessly amused.

  
“Of course it is, but that’s not what we’re talking about.” Makers breath she had to be at least five inches shorter than him and she was terrifying.  
“Erm. Yes. Freshly torn today?” Maybe there was a book in the library on elvhen strangeness.

  
“I see.” She said, pausing for a while, ignoring how Cullen now looked both confused and alarmed, and Dorian looked lost and frustrated and damn it Varric and Fenris were _in on this_. Then she smiled brightly “I’m happy for you two!” She chirped, walking over to link her arm with Cullens stiff one. “But if you hurt him, I’ll light you on fire.”

  
“What! My lady!” Dorian cried, aghast “You would burn me?”

  
She nodded “Mmmhmm. Him too. Pretend I warned you too.” She said gesturing at Fenris, who nodded, still smirking as Lavellan dragged her human off.

  
“Can I ask what is happening?” Dorian finally sighed, defeated.

  
“Sparkler.” Varric chuckled “It’s an elven courting thing. Have you never been to an alienage? Seen a Dalish clan? Read a book about elves?”

  
“Oh. Right. I’ll…be back.”

  
An hour long conversation with Solas was far more useful than threats and smirking.

____________________________________

 

 

 

 

He hadn’t expected Fenris to slink back into his room that night.

  
“Okay, so it’s literally a token of our relationship, and you didn’t tell me because?”

  
Fenris huffed and began stripping out of his clothes before crawling into bed. “It’s an elven thing. To take a token” He sighed reluctantly “While I don’t find much in common with elves, I like the token aspect. So I did it.”

  
Dorian groaned and crawled into bed. “You could have told me. I needed to endure Solas’s teasing. I may never be the same.”

  
Fenris chuckled and pulled himself into Dorians embrace. “ Let’s see if I sleep less violently tonight.” He rumbled.

  
Dorian sighed and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before relaxing into the pillows. He was almost asleep when he realized. “You never said why you didn’t just tell me. I was confused as Maker knows what all day!”

  
A soft rumbling laugh from Fenris could be felt up through Dorian’s throat. “Because, mage. I so rarely see you confused I could not pass the opportunity by. You get quite entertaining when you can’t figure something out.”

  
“You let me wander about blindly for a day for your own amusement. Your sense of humor is twisted, has anybody told you?”  
“Several. They died.”

  
“But not me?”

  
Fenris sighed, nuzzling into the mages chest. “No. Not you. Now sleep.”


End file.
